Sunday the Rabbi Stayed Home

Chapter Three

The key was under the mat. While the rabbi, hampered by a suitcase and an armful of coats, struggled with the lock. Miriam kept a tight hold on Jonathan, arms and legs spread like a starfish as he tried to make for the jungle gym he had spied in the backyard. “No. Jonathan, later,” she said automatically. “You’ve got to have your lunch first and then your nap, and then you can go out and play.”

They trooped into the reception hall and stood there for a moment, looking left and right at the dining room and facing living room. As Miriam stooped to extricate her young son from his snowsuit, the rabbi wandered into the living room toward a bookcase to inspect the titles. He selected a book and began to thumb through it. Then he sat down on the couch; and a moment later, his eyes still focused on the book, he had unlaced his shoes and kicked them off and stretched out on the couch, his head propped against the arm and the book held high to catch the light from the window.

Miriam found a coat hanger in the hall closet and hung up the snowsuit. She had put away the coats that her husband had left draped over the valise when she noticed the envelope on the hall table with her name printed across it in large block letters. She drew out a couple of sheets of paper typed single-space.

“Dear Miriam,” she read aloud. “Welcome to Binkerton and Mass State, Western Division. I hope you followed instructions and didn’t bring food. Everything is prepared—a complete Sabbath meal and enough for the weekend. It’s all in the refrigerator, and all you have to do is heat it up. Pilot light doesn’t work on left front burner. Use matches (in cupboard over stove)… Kiddush wine in dining room sideboard… meat dishes—blue edging—in cupboard on the right as you face kitchen windows… meat silver also on right—floral pattern… meat pots and pans in right cupboard… dairy utensils all on left… when washing dishes, watch out for kitchen faucet—squirts sideways when turned on full… arranged for baby-sitter—Kathy (15 and very reliable) next door, No. 47, daughter of Prof. Carson, Math, and very nice… feel free to call them if you need help of any kind. Extra blankets—top shelf bedroom closet… Bob attached side rail to Rachel’s bed for Jonathan… No automatic switch for lights on Friday night. Bob and I are not that Orthodox. If you are, leave them on all night… Our good friend. Prof. Bill Richardson, Philosophy Department, was much taken with David’s paper on Maimonides. He is holding open house in David’s honor Saturday night. Did Bob mention it to David?”

Miriam poked her head in the living room and viewed her husband lying on the couch with affectionate annoyance. “David!” she called sharply. “Sit up.”

“I took my shoes off.” he protested.

“And how about your jacket? It will be all wrinkled for tonight.”

“I’m wearing my black suit tonight. This will smooth out when I hang it up.”

She sighed. “Did Bob say anything about a party Saturday night?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Well, there’s going to be one in your honor. A Professor Richardson is having open house.”

This time the rabbi swung his legs over and sat up. “I don’t think I care for that. Besides. I was planning to drive back to Barnard’s Crossing. I all but promised Mr. Wasserman.”

“But it’s for you, Nancy says. We’ll have to go.”